#086 Ya Got Trouble (The Music Man, 1962)
“I’m a salesman, not a miracle worker. Even I can’t make you thinner,” Gerald said. He was joined by a man so large his chair disappeared beneath his massive backside.
“Name your price. I’m good for it,” Fats said, a platter of cannoli’s placed in front of him.
“Well,” Gerald said, “I do have this one thing.” He placed a bottle of clear liquid on the table. “But I don’t recommend it.”
A stack of hundreds was dropped on the table and the bottle emptied without another word. Suddenly, Fats clutched his throat.
“Glue,” Gerald said. “Works almost every time.”
Now friends, let me tell you what I mean
You got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 pockets in a table
Pockets that mark the difference between a gentleman and a bum
With a capital “B” and that rhymes with “P” and that stands for pool
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